Te Amo?
by Spicy Scarlet
Summary: Santana and Sebastian hate each other. But something changes between them when they are forced together on a vacation with their families in Puerto Rico. Will they learn to get along? Or will something more happen? Warning: attempted suicide.


**A/N: Please pardon my Spanish in this fic. Conment if you want translations, but hopefully you guys can get the gist. I hope you like it, its a bit dark at the end. Happy reading! - Spicy Scarlet**

Te Amo?

_**Santana**_

I just got home after Cheerios practice and my Mami told me that in a few weeks, we're going back to Puerto Rico to visit Abuela. I'm really happy, I haven't seen Abuela in forever, and I love visiting Puerto Rico. It's such a nice change from Lima Ohio.

I immediately ask if Brittany can come, but she says that it's a family trip. Her, me and Abuela. She also mentioned that her college roommate might be coming with her family, but that's it. I understand, and I dash over to my room to get my homework done.

Our house is very simple, one story, 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, kitchen, living room. The basics. Once I get to my desk with my pile of notebooks, I do Spanish first, since it's the easiest. Then I move onto Math and English. I just finish when Mami knocks on my door, telling me that dinner is ready. I follow her down the hall, and she hands me a steaming plate of _arroz con frijoles._ Yum. We eat in partial silence, occasionally asking a question in Spanish.

"_Mija_, I texted _mi amiga. Ella viene, con su hijo. Él tiene dieciocho años, como tu,_" I nod, finishing off my rice. I don't really care, since Brittany and I have been dating for two months now.

"_Si, gracias_ Mami. _La cena es muy bien,_"

She nods with the compliment, and after I help her wash dishes, I go back to my room to text Brittany.

I know I'm a different person at home than at school. At McKinley, I'm a mean, sarcastic bitch. At home, I'm helpful, and generally nice. My mom deserves it though.

Ever since my dad left because I wasn't a boy, she's worked three times as hard to take care of the two of us. I do have a paid internship/job at the Lima Bean since my coworkers are lazy jerks, so I try to help pitch in, but she's amazing. I admire Mami's strength.

Mami comes in a few minutes later to tell me she's going to bed. I nod, and kiss her on the cheek goodnight, and I change and lie down as well. I don't go straight to bed, I read a chapter of my book, check to see if Brittany responded, which she didn't, then turn off my light and fall fast asleep.

In the morning, Mami and I do our normal routine, get up, eat, I'll make sure I've done everything and Mami will collect all her things, and she'll drop me off at school.

When I get there, I am joined by Brittany Pierce, Quinn Fabray, and Noah Puckerman, or Puck, who's dating Quinn. The girls are good friends of mine, and Puck is close to all of us as well.

We walk down the hall, people move around us. Quinn and Puck in front, Britt and I behind her. We're basically the most popular kids at McKinley, so everyone knows to stay out of our way.

Puck and I break off for our first class, and we grab seats in the back of the English classroom.

I go through my classes, and eventually I find myself in my usual chair in the back of the choir room, tuning out Mr. Schuester, who's yammering on about some country dude no one's ever heard of. The only ones even semi paying attention are Rachel Berry, who pays attention to everything as long as it involves her, and Sam Evans, who has a strange addiction for country music.

"Mr. Schue?" Kurt Hummel asked, standing.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Um, a few of us have talked about it, and no offense Mr. Schue, but your song choices are a little outdated." Mr. Schue nodded thoughtfully, remembering what happened during Britney Spears week. "We were hoping that this week we could do numbers by . . . the one and only . . . Ms. Katy Perry."

Everyone starts talking at once, about how much they love Katy, or what sings they should do.

"Good idea, Kurt. How about you all bring in a Katy song tomorrow?" Everyone turns to their friends to discuss which songs they will do, and I go over to Brittany.

"Hey Britt. Do you want to do a song together?" She looks at the ground, and tells me to wait until everyone else has left. Once they have, I turn back to her. "So? Do you want to do a song with me?"

"Look, Santana. I already agreed to do a duet with someone else," I'm not mad, Brittany is amazing and it's about time others noticed.

"Who?"

"Artie,"

"Ok. Well, see you later then?" I say, referencing our date tonight.

"Santana? I can't make it,"

"Oh. We can reschedule-" I start to say.

"I mean I can't make it because . . . I'm dating someone else." That was the last thing I thought she would say.

"What?! Who?" I tried to sound angry, but I knew Brittany could tell I was hurt. This couldn't be happening.

"Artie,"

"For how long?" I yell angrily, wondering how long Brittany has been sneaking behind my back. She looks anywhere but at me when she answers.

"A month." _What?!_

"A month?!" This really couldn't be happening. _My best friend, my girlfriend, has been cheating on me?! _

"Santana . . ."

"You know what? Forget it. We're done," I spit, storming out of the choir room. Everyone in the hall knows to stay out of my way, especially when I have my angry face on.

_I'm alone. No._

Ever since my Abuelo died and my dad left, my worst fear is being alone, having Mami or Abuela die too. Being with Brittany helped me get over it, but it's back, reaching its frozen hand up my spine, spending waves of panic through me. I brush it off. I have to be strong, strong like Mami.

I walk to the Lima Bean, and roll my eyes as I step behind the counter. I have a job here, and I take after school shifts on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. It's a lot, considering I also have glee club and Cheerios Practice almost every day, but I somehow manage.

I take my place at the cash register, and start taking coffee orders from the long line of customers.

Quinn and Puck normally come and hang out with me, but they have a date tonight, so it's just me. Alone. _No, none of that._

As I near the end of my shift, the place is empty, so I grab myself a latte and sit down, enjoying the quiet.

Then, my peace is interrupted by Tina and Mike Chang walking through the door. I get up, give a smile, since Tina and Mike aren't so bad, and go behind the counter to get their order.

All of the New Directions know that I work here, and they often stop by. It doesn't hurt that the Lima Bean is also a pretty popular place.

I wave to them as they walk out, and then I lock up the building. I sit down on the bench outside and wait for Mami to pick me up. I pull out my phone to text her, but she has already texted me.

[Mami]

_Mija, me quedo hasta tarde. Podrias llevar te con Brittany?_

[Santana]

_Si Mami. Buena suerte!_

I sigh and put down my phone. Looks like I'm walking. I get up and start back towards McKinley. Maybe someone is still there. Then, a silver Lexus pulls up next to me.

"'Sup, J-Lo?" I stop and frown at the familiar voice.

"What do you want, Andrew McCarthy?" I snap. _Sebastian Smythe. Captain of the Warblers. Our enemy. Certified douchebag._

"I think the real question is what do you want, Sha-queer-a. Like ride, perhaps?"

"No way am I getting in a car with you, Feivel. Now, don't you have some rich boy to hit on or something?" I say, walking away. He smirks, and keeps following me. That's it. "Ok, twink. Turn around now, run back to your little Boreblers, or I **will** go all Lima Heights on your ass!"

On his face, I see a flash of momentary panic, and I savor it.

I turn around satisfied, and walk into the McKinley parking lot. I know he won't follow me because a rich jerk like himself won't be caught dead in a public school. I look around, and I'm in luck. Mr. Schue's car is still here. I feel Criminal Chipmunk's eyes in me as I walk towards the school. I run into Mr. Schue on his way out.

"Hey Santana. What are you doing here so late?"

"I had a shift at the Lima Bean," I say, just remembering that Sebastian could probably hear us. Damn. "And my mom is working late, so I was wondering if I could get a ride?"

"Oh, of course Santana. I'd be happy to," he said honestly. I nodded in appreciation and climbed into the backseat of Mr. Schue's insanely old car. As we pulled out, I saw Sebastian smiling and typing on his phone. Must be another one of his boyfriends/one night stands.

We drive in silence until he pulls up to my house.

"Thanks for driving me, Mr. Schue," I say, getting out.

"No problem Santana," he says. He drives away and I scan the house. No car, lights off. Mami's not home yet. I walk up to the door and unlock it, but I remember to lock it behind me. Then I go to my room and face plant on my bed.

A few tears fall down my face as I think of sweet, innocent Brittany. Not so innocent now, I guess.

_How could she do this? And with Artie, of all people?_ I roll over, keeping a pillow over my face. I remember today's glee club assignment. I reach over to my desk, grab my earbuds, and start going through my Katy Perry selection.

I eventually find the perfect song, and I play it aloud, singing along. This'll work.

I get up reluctantly, and pull my suitcase out of my closet. I might as well start packing, since we're leaving soon-ish. Schools almost out. Plus, then I won't have to do it later. Since I don't wear anything except my Cheerios uniform during the week (sadly), I can almost fully pack everything.

I put on one of my favorite Madonna albums, _True Blue_ and sing along as I pack. Once I finish folding my closet into my bag, which isn't that hard, I start thinking about ways to avoid Brittany for the rest of the school year. _Oh no_. This isn't going to end well.

The next day, during Cheerios practice, Coach Sylvester pairs up Brittany and I for warm-ups. Then she yells at us for not doing them together. We finish with our pyramid, and I scale perfectly to the top. We hold our positions, then Coach Sue yells at us.

"SLOPPY! YOU'RE SLOPPY BABIES! Hit the showers!" I roll my eyes and go into the girls locker room. I take a quick shower, and join the other girls in the front of the group heading to class.

I break off into my Math class and the only open seat is . . . next to Brittany. This is gonna be really hard.

Finally, it's time for Glee Club, and for the first round of Katy Perry songs. Young Burt Reynolds and Lady Lips started off with a poppy, extraordinarily gay version of _Last Friday Night_.

Everybody wound up in the middle of the room, then Hobbit stood up, and performed a funeral version of _Firework_ that would have made even the dead screaming in aural pain. I roll my eyes as Berry gets into that overly dramatic stage, and wails a note that makes everybody cheer. _Whatever._

Over the course of the next week, I avoid Brittany and Stubbles McCripplepants as much as possible, ignoring all the looks I get from the other New Directions, and listen to the endless stream of Katy Perry songs, like Tina's rendition of _Teenage Dream_, Quinn's performance of _California Girls_ (Featuring Brittany and I, which was really fun to dance to, by the way), and Mercedes "chocolate" version of _Dark Horse_.

Finally it's Friday, and It's my turn to perform. First, Finn, Puck, and Mike do _Roar_, which would have been good if you ignored the fact that they were dressed like scantily clad cavemen, which I found disturbing. Then, I had to ignore everyone and hold back my sadness and anger as Artie and Brittany performed _Wide Awake_.

Then, I took center stage, and did a fantastic rendition of _Part of Me_, and everybody started cheering. I did my usual of not doing my very best, since everybody would be up in my grill about it.

When I first joined, I didn't want to show people that I cared, so I didn't show off all my awesomeness, which was good, but now I have to keep up the act, even though I'm twice as talented as Hobbit Berry, Frankenteen, or Wheezy Jones.

Eventually, everyone wound up dancing, save Hobbit, who was sulking off to the side about being upstaged, and Brittany, who was sitting with Artie.

The bell rang, and we all left for the weekend.

I have a bonus shift at the Lima Bean, and I am dreading it, since Nick-at-Night has been stopping by a lot more ever since he found out I work there, probably just to insult me. I love roasting him, because most of the time I end up winning, but I'm tired after the week. _Ughh!_

Next Monday, the sign-ups for the school musical, _West Side Story_ are up on the bulletin boards. I quickly jot my name down, It'll be a good distraction to keep my mind off of Brittany. The next day, everyone auditions in the auditorium, the musical being directed by Artie, with help from Ms. Pillsbury and Coach Beiste. I walked onstage when my name was called, and took center stage.

"Santana Lopez, auditioning for Anita?"

I start to sing Kelly Clarkson's _Because of You, _and when I finish, everyone erupts in applause.

"Thank you Santana," Ms. Pillsbury says. "That was amazing." I nod and walk offstage, where Blaine congratulates me. Since he came to McKinley, he and I have become good friends. I wait in the wings as Blaine kills his audition for Tony, and when he comes over to me, I give him a hug. He's one of the only people that knows the nice side of me, along with Mami, and Brittany. We sit down in the audience and watch the Battle of the Maria's, Mercedes v.s Rachel. I personally thought Mercedes was better, but the directors looked conflicted. I rolled my eyes. They just can't say no to that egotistical hobbit.

The next day, the cast list is posted, and Blaine and I cheer, since we both got the parts we auditioned for. Rachel got Maria (of course), Mike Chang got cast as Riff, and Kurt as Officer Krupke.

The next week is filled with never ending Glee Club meetings, Cheerios practice, shifts at the Lima Bean while dealing with Meerkat Smythe, and _West Side Story_ rehearsals. Before my practice today on the musical, Blaine comes up to me at my locker.

"Hey."

"What's up, Blaine?"

"You seem super tense."

"Thanks for noticing," I say flatly. He just smiles.

"I was thinking you could come with me for a quick break before rehearsal."

"You know if we're late, Hobbit will kill us. She's going nuts over 'Her Musical'," I say. Blaine chuckles, and leads me to his car. I climb into the passenger seat, and he starts driving out of Lima.

"Where are we going?" I ask, somewhat impatiently.

"Relax, Satan. You'll see." I slump in my seat and watch as Blaine drives us to Westerville. We park at a very fancy looking building, and we climb out.

"Why are we at Dalton Academy?" I say, hoping not to run into Criminal Chipmunk again.

"When I'm stressed, I like to watch the Warblers practice," he admits. "Plus, it'll be fun. You know the Warblers, you're friends with all of them." I nod, knowing that was true.

"Except for Horse-Face. I can't stand him," I say, using another nickname for Smythe. Blaine laughs.

"Oh, believe me, I know."

We walk down the ornate halls, and I sigh as Blaine tugs me into their common room. Three of them are in the middle of the room, facing away from us, singing a version of Billy Joel's _Uptown Girl._ When I look closer, I realize it's Nick. I see Jeff, Thad, Trent and some other Warblers I know dancing backup, and then I see that, unfortunately, Sebastian has noticed us.

He starts moving over towards us, and flashes me a glare and takes the melody for a few bars, making the other boys notice our presence.

Blaine gets up and joins them in one of their many coordinated dance numbers, but I watch from the doorway. Nick winks at me, and ushers me and the other boys out into the hall, where they take turns singing to me, stepping in and out of their line. Sebastian takes the lead for another few bars, and I give him an unamused look as he circles me. I see he looks annoyed (and disappointed?) as he returns to his place in line, and I finally smile when Thad does ridiculous muscle motions as they head back into their practice room.

When they finish, they cheer, and I go over and hug my friends, namely Jeff, Nick, Trent, Thad, and Wes. Sebastian hold his arms open in a teasing gesture, but I stick my tongue out as him as I leave him hanging. He rolls his eyes and his face settles back into its comfortable arrogant smirk. _God, he's so annoying. _

The Warblers beg for Blaine to join them again, but he just smiles, and tells them that we're putting on West Side story, and that he reserved tickets for them.

I had asked him not to give Criminal Chipmunk a seat, but he said that would be rude. He laughed when I argued that that was the point.

They accept the tickets, and ask about which characters we are playing.

"Well, I was cast as Tony," Blaine says as they congratulate him.

"And I am the one and only Anita," I say, flashing a smirk. Blaine and I leave, but I see him talking to the Twink.

When we get back in the car, I ask him what that was about.

"He wanted to come to rehearsal today, so I told him it was ok."

"What? Why?"

"Because he's nice!" Blaine argues.

"No, he's only nice to you because he's gay and has a crush on you. He's a douche to everyone else."

"Sounds familiar," Blaine said, elbowing me in the side.

"Hey! I am nothing like him. You know I'm so much better," Blaine pretends to think about it, and I punch him in the arm. We arrive back at school, where Rachel, as predicted, scolds us for being late. I change into my red dress, which I really like, and join Rachel onstage for _Boy Like That_.

Blaine isn't needed this rehearsal, but he sits in the audience as we perform. Right before we start, I see Andrew McCarthy slide into the seat next to Blaine. I sing my part, my voice soaring across the room, aiming it at Blaine. When I meet his eye, he smiles at me.

I notice Sebastian watching us, and I roll my eyes to myself. He clearly can't stand anyone besides him having a relationship with Blaine, even if it's just a friendship. Plus, we're both gay. Actually, all three of us are. The difference is, I'm a lady, and they're guys.

We finish our song, and both boys clap, one slightly more sarcastic than the other.

After a few more run-throughs, I go backstage to find Blaine waiting. How does he move so fast? He congratulates me on the great rehearsal, and when Mami texts me to say that she's staying late again, he volunteers to drive me home. I change back out of my costume, and wave sarcastically to Rachel as we walk out, Twink in tow. He goes to his Lexus, and we go to Blaine's car. I can drive, it's just that we can't afford two cars, and I use my Lima Bean paycheck for clothes, recreation, and occasionally, when needed, groceries.

As we drive, Blaine confronts me about my current most sensitive topic.

Brittany.

"So, what is up with you two? Brittany has been spending all of her time with Artie, and now you seem to have time for me," Blaine says.

"We broke up," I say simply.

"What? Why? You two seemed perfect for each other," Blaine says, now concerned, and sympathetic sounding.

"She cheated on me. With Artie. For a month," I say in short, clipped sentences. It's still a touchy subject.

"Sorry, Tana."

"It's ok, Blaine," I say.

We get to talking about our plans for summer, how Blaine's going to New York with Kurt, and how I'm going back to Puerto Rico.

"You must be so excited, finally going back there."

"Definitely. It'll be nice seeing Abuela too."

"Tell her hi for me." Blaine is known by Mami and Abuela, since I write letters to her almost weekly.

"I will."

He stops at my house, and I hug him before getting out. I wave to him as he drives away, and unlock the door since Mami's not home again. I start making _pastelillos de carne_, one of my Mami's favorite dishes.

She comes home right when I finish, and smiles gratefully as I take her coat and bag and help her to the table. We eat quietly, and Mami goes to her room after dinner, leaving me to clean up. I wash the dishes, and once I finish I go to my room, and fall asleep instantly.

It's the day of the performance, and I am super excited. I know I am ready, and same with everyone else. We thank Artie for being an amazing director, and we start on the opening number, led by yours truly. I love performing it, it's so fun, and _America_ goes flawlessly, and to top it off, I get a standing ovation once the song finishes. I see Smythe and the Warblers in the crowd on their feet, and Feivel actually looks impressed. _In. Your. Delinquent. Face._

The rest of the musical goes perfectly, and the crowd goes insane at the curtain call. The cast meets backstage, still high on adrenaline. Blaine and Kurt kiss, and all the girls coo at them. I hug Blaine, and high five Puck, TIna, Mike, and the other main cast members. All of our parents come backstage and give the cast flowers, and I pick out Mami. She has nothing in her hands, but the look of pride on her face is the only gift I need. I give her a huge hug, and she whispers,

"Estoy tan orgulloso de ti, mija."

"Muchas gracias, Mami," I whisper back. All I've ever wanted is to make Mami proud of me. Once I get congratulated by Quinn and Puck, who were also in the play, I figure no else has anything to say to me, so Mami and I go out to the parking lot, where I see the Warblers getting into their cars. I ignore them as we get in Mami's Hyundai, but I swear I feel eyes on me. Once we get home, Mami kisses my cheek, and tells me that we can spend the evening together. I love family nights with Mami, we talk and laugh, play games, and watch movies.

Today, we decide to watch a movie, and we end up picking _Mamma Mia_, partly due to the soundtrack. It's so amazing, and Mami denies it, but she can sing well. Both her and Abuela. At least I know where I get it.

We sing along to our favorite tracks, and once the movie ends, we both are tired, so we head to bed. This time, when I fall asleep, instead of the blonde that normally haunts them, my dreams are filled with music, beaches, and family.

On the last day of school, all classes are cancelled, but we still have glee club. Most of the day I spend avoiding Brittany and Artie, alternating hanging out with Puck and Quinn, and Blaine and Kurt, and collecting all my A's from each class. I'm a very good student, and I am smart, even if I give the impression that I hate school. By far, the easiest subject is Spanish, but P.E is definitely second.

Mr. Schue mostly gathered us in the choir room for a sappy lecture about how he'll miss us over the summer, and that he can't wait for next year, our last year for some of us, and that we're going to win Nationals, blah blah blah.

The bell rang, and we all stampeded out of the choir room, anxious for a vacation. We have just finished school for the year, and most of us are Seniors now, but we have summer break to look forward to first.

Mami is waiting outside of school, and we drive home quickly for us to assemble our airplane bags, and in what seems like seconds, which is weird considering madhouse security lines, our plane has left Lima.

In the air, I put on my headphones, and turn on my Puerto Rico playlist, a perfect combination of Latin artists and songs in Spanish, such as Madonna, Shakira, Luis Fonsi, Ricky Martin, Pitbull, and of course, Jennifer Lopez. I stare out the window at the clouds below me, and when I look over, I see Mami engrossed in her book. I return my gaze to the window, and think of all the things I love about my birthplace.

The golden beaches, the warm weather, the blue skies, the teal ocean. I sigh as I think about all I want to do when I get there. Then, I drift off into my world of blue seas, Jennifer Lopez, and home.

The next time I wake up, we're still in the air, but the flight attendants are coming around serving drinks.

"_Un refresco, por favor," _I say to the attendant. She smiles at me and starts pouring a drink.

"_Ir, o venir, senorita?" _she asks.

"_Viniendo, pero yo nací en Puerto Rico,"_ I respond smoothly. She hands me my soda, and I nod. "_Gracias, Señora,"_

"_De nada,"_

_**Sebastian**_

I don't want to go. I was looking forward to hanging out in Westerville this summer, going from hot guy to pretty girl when Mom told me that I was coming with her to some random Hispanic island to meet up with her college roommate.

Apparently she had a daughter, and that was the only reason I came. Maybe this could end well. Technically, I'm bi-sexual, so I'm looking forward to meeting these people.

I was all ready to take our private jet, but Mom told me that when Father left, he took his jet with him, so we have to take - _ugh! _\- public transportation. We're still filthy rich, even without Father, but Mom is less adamant against public transpo.

I'm trying to relax in my seat next to the window when I hear someone talking to the flight attendant serving drinks. Who talks to the wait staff? I hear the two women converse in fluent Spanish, and I frankly can't understand a word they're saying. I don't speak freaking Spanish!

I was raised with French, and that's what I took at Dalton for an easy A. As the lady moves on to our row, I order a soda, and sip it cautiously as I look out the window. The clouds are a blinding white as we soar above them to wherever we're going. Puerto Rico, i think.

I put in my earbuds, and try and find the right album for right now. I finally find a Maroon 5 album, _V_, and start listening to Adam Levine's sexy vocals as we fly over the ocean, nearing our destination. I'm pretty sure I fall asleep, because the next time I look out the window, we're almost touching the ground in San Juan, the capital. I see Mom texting somebody, probably her friend, who is likely a rich white lady who likes exotic vacations.

The plane hits the ground with a thud, and we taxi to the gate. We wait our turn to get off, even though I feel like we should have gotten the right of way. Or maybe I'm just impatient, and wanting to get off this stinking plane. Once we get off, I'm almost blinded by the sun. It doesn't shine this much in Ohio. Or Paris. We grab our multiple bags each, and while Mom rents a car, I look around. The main city is sprawling and modern, but from here, I can barely see rich suburbs, and white beaches. Beautiful.

_**Santana**_

As we get off the plane, I am immediately greeted by the sun. I missed it in Ohio. I look around at on of the places I call home, and smile at everything that I missed so much. Mami and I move through the _aeropuerto_ very quickly, everyone here either speaking Spanish or English. We are light packers, we grab our two bags and hail a cab to get to Abuela's. She has a luxurious house in the suburbs of the gorgeous city of San Juan, she got it before Abuelo died, but it is a fantastic house, but I know Abuela gets lonely in the large house. She's mentioned it in her letters.

Mami says her friend is renting a car, so they'll have two cars to get around, since Abuela has one too, but she still has my bike. Last time we visited, Abuela gave me an electric motorcycle, since my birthday is in the summer, and I love it. It's really fun to ride around the city. Speaking of my birthday, I remember that my birthday will pass while we're here. Fantastic. My favorite day in my favorite place.

I sigh contentedly, and Mami hold my hand as we ride through the bustling streets. The tall buildings thin out, and they gradually turn into large houses, and I restrain myself from bouncing in my seat as the driver drops us off at her driveway.

The house is grand and sprawling, but the fact that excites me is the old woman standing in the door. I grab my suitcase, and run over to Abuela, giving her the biggest hug I can.

"_Hola Abuela! Te extrane mucho!"_

"_Hola Santana! Te amo también, mi amor,"_ Mami approaches us, and hugs _su madre_ tightly. Abuela ushers us inside, and I claim my usual room, a semi-large bedroom at the end of the hall on the left, painted in dove grays and teal, with a balcony overlooking the ocean. I place my suitcase next to the bed, quickly change into a Puerto Rico t shirt and shorts and sneakers, and I go out onto the deck, breathing in the cool, salty air off of the ocean. This is perfect. Home.

"_Santana! Mi amiga esta aqui!"_ Mami yells, and I go downstairs to say hi. I see a young white woman hugging Mami, and wait in the doorway next to Abuela, who is waiting to show them their rooms. I see another figure get out of the car, shielding their eyes from the sun. Whoever they are, wear a hat, genius.

As they approach, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. I know who that is. I couldn't mistake that smirk anywhere. What the hell is Sebastian Smythe doing here?

_**Sebastian**_

As we pull up to the house, I finally get a little excited, the house looks about the same size, if not bigger than ours in Westerville, and it looks like there's private beach access.

When I get out of the car, Mom goes over to hug another woman coming out of the house. Instead of the white lady I expected, she is clearly Latina. I approach them, and I see a figure standing in the door. I hold my hand up to shade the sun from my eyes, and I nearly drop the bag I'm carrying. What the-?

Why is Santana Lopez here? Then it hits me. This must be her mom. Funny, I thought her family was poor. This is clearly a rich person's house. Then I see her with an older woman, and I figure this must be her grandmother's house. I plaster my trademark smirk on my face as I come up next to Mom.

"Sebby, Mrs. Lopez will show you to your room. I'm going to go out with Maribel," I nod, and Santana disappears into the house. This is going to be torture. I follow the older Mrs. Lopez into the large house, upstairs, and to the last door on the right. I place my bag down and go back to the car to grab my other suitcases.

"_Santana! Ayúdale con sus maletas!"_ the older woman calls. I see Santana come out of the room across from mine.

"_Bien, Abuela," _Santana responds reluctantly, and she walks down the stairs and grabs one of my bags while I grab the other. "Jesus Christ, what the hell did you put in this thing?" she complains under her breath as she lugs it up to my room. She tosses it in, and goes back to her room, closing the door behind her. I go into my designated room, and look around.

It's painted in soft gray, with plenty of space. The window will let in morning light, and upside is a great view of the driveway and the city of San Juan.

I go back into the hall, and debate over exploring the house by myself, or annoying Santana. Both options sound good, so I knock on her door. She opens it, then looks at me flatly.

"Can I help you Feivel?"

"Could you show me around? This is a big house after all, and I don't want you getting lost." I smirk, but she seems unfazed.

"You're used to big houses. You'll figure it out," She shuts the door in my face. I hear a faint voice from Santana's room, and once it stops, Santana opens the door again.

"We're going down to the beach," she told me. "Join if you feel like it,"

She closes the door again, and next time she comes out, she has changed into a loose cover-up, with a swim suit underneath I'm assuming, baseball hat, and sandals, carrying a small bag with her. I change quickly, and follow her down the stairs and out the back door, towards the ocean.

_**Santana**_

That jerk. Knocking just to bug me. This will be a long vacation. I guess I'll just have to stay away from the twink. I've been getting better at avoiding people, and San Juan is at least 100 times the size of McKinley. I go out the back door, and walk down the boardwalk to the beach. It's technically private, but Abuela let's other people on it too.

I lay out my towel, and grab my book from my bag. As I'm reading, Smythe joins Abuela and I on the beautiful beach. Once I get warmer, I put my book down and take off my cover up, revealing my favorite black bikini. I walk across the sand, enjoying the feeling of it in between my toes. I stand in the cool water for a minute, before gracefully diving in, letting the salty water envelop me. When I resurface, I look back and see Abuela by herself.

I figure that Criminal Chipmunk went back up the house, when I see him surface a few yards away from me. I roll my eyes and float on my back, letting the waves rock me back and forth. Then, a splash of water hits my face, and I stand on the smooth ocean floor, and glare at Sebastian, who was smirking at me.

I dive underneath the water again, swimming farther out. When my head pops up again, I tread water, and relax my head back. In a minute, I smoothly swim back to shore, lying back down next to Abuela. Sebastian joins us, and lies down on the other side of Abuela. He puts on some form of sunscreen, but I smirk to myself. I love being from here, and it's an added bonus that I can't get sunburned.

I turn onto my back, accepting the time to have a little shut eye. After another hour of going in between the beach and the water, Abuela and I go up to the house and unfortunately, Twink follows us. I jog up to my room, which has a private bathroom, and shower off the salt from the beach. Then I put on my same t shirt, shorts and sneakers from earlier, and put my hair in a ponytail held back by my baseball hat.

I step out of my room, and I feel Andrew McCarthy's eyes on me as I go down the stairs and I hear him behind me as I go closer to the garage.

"Y'know, Twink, if you're going to follow someone, you should at least attempt to be good at it." I spin around to face him and smirk.

"Where are you going, J-Lo?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business, Feivel." I turn around, and take a detour through the house. Once he disappears, I go into the garage, and run my hand over my bike. Over it's smooth leather seat, and sturdy handles.

"Nice bike," I whirl around.

"Thanks, Twink. Not that you would know."

"Anyway, I talked to my mom. She and your mom said that you had to take me with you, wherever you're going." I roll my eyes, and go over to Abuela's Mercedes-Benz.

"Fine. But I don't care about losing you in the city, so I pick where we go." He shrugs and smiles, and I get in the driver seat.

"I didn't think you knew how to drive, Sha-queer-a."

"Just because I don't have my own car doesn't mean I can't drive," I snap.

He climbs into the passenger seat, and I pull out of the driveway. I get back into the feel of the car, and expertly navigate the narrow streets of San Juan. I finally park in the lot near a large glass mall, and I get out. Sebastian rolls his eyes and follows me.

"Okay. Let me break it down for you. You can do whatever you want, just don't die. I don't care if you're severely injured, but meet me back here in 2 or 3 hours." Sebastian nods in understanding, and we both headed for the large doors.

Before we get in, I am stopped by a police officer. I see Sebastian tense, but when I see the identity of the man, I smile.  
"_Hola Senor!"_

"_Santana! Ha sido demasiado largo!"_

"_Si, Oficial Garcia."_

"_Tengo sed! Tu tienes una cerveza?"_ he jokes. I smile, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Sebastian watching our conversation.

"_No, senor, cafe solamente._" He waves at me, and I continue into the mall. Sebastian trails me, and I roll my eyes.

"I told you, you can go," I say, accentuating the 'go'.

"Well, I don't speak a word of Spanish, so it might be helpful if I stick with you." He smirks. "You know that guy?"

"Yeah, he checks in on Abuela when we're not here," I say. As I walk through the mall, people wave at me, all my old friends, and Sebastian looks impressed.

"Looks like you're the local celebrity here," he says bluntly. I shrug.

"I know a lot of these people from when I lived here. Plus, a lot of these people watch our show choir competitions, so people know me." I shrug, it's not really a big deal. I get a coffee, and ask Sebastian if he wants anything. I easily converse with the barista, while I order him a coffee too.

We walk through the mall, and I occasionally dart into my favorite shops and say _hola_ to the storekeepers.

_**Sebastian**_

I have been trying to pick up Spanish all day, but they speak too fast. It's actually really impressive how many people Santana Lopez knows, and how many people know her. I follow her around, and a few people recognize me from the show choir videos Santana said that they watch.

As we walk in and out of stores, Santana kinda changes, only when she's talking to other people in rapid-fire Spanish. She's seems actually nice, and tolerable. Once we leave the stores though, she's back to her usual bitch-mode, which I don't mind too much either, since it's fun to insult her, even though I know she can top me. Sadly.

Eventually, we go back to the car, and she steers through the streets until she arrives at a restaurant. Valentina's.

"This is my favorite place to eat. Now, either you can tell me what you want, you can sit and be hungry, you let me order for you which is the smartest decision, or you can go and do whatever," she tells me. I follow her in, and as she strikes up a conversation with the manager, who she apparently knows, I follow a waiter to a table.

She joins me, and tells me she already ordered. In a matter of seconds, two plates of food appear in front of us, _asopao_ for Santana, and something called _mofongo_ for me. She told me to suck it up and eat it, even though it looks like a shaped mound of barf. She goes right into her soup, which actually looks like food, and she glares at me and takes her fork and takes a bite of my "food". I reluctantly try it once Santana gives me a look, and surprisingly, it tastes good. Really good.

Santana smirks haughtily when I finish the dish. She hands the waiter some bills, and rolls her eyes as I look on, confused at her conversation. She sighs and goes back to the car, and starts to pull away before I can get in.

I glare at her, but she just gives me an innocent look, lets me in, and goes back to driving, this time back to the house. She parks and goes inside, and I wait a minute, then follow her inside. I see her go into her room, but she forgets to close the door all the way.

I peek in, and see a single bag, still packed, but I look farther and see her standing out on a balcony, arms against the rail. She has let her hair down, and it's blowing around her shoulders, like one of those surreal images of a model in a magazine. She looks calm, peaceful, like I've never seen her before.

I pull out my phone, and snap a quick picture, and go back to my room.

_**Santana**_

After I get back, I go straight out to my balcony, letting the breeze blow away my frustration. Why does that chipmunk have to be so god-forsaking annoying? I take out my hair, letting it blow around. I take deep breaths of the crisp air. In my head, I write down all the places I want to go before I leave.

Isla Verde Beach. Viejo San Juan. Paseo de la Princesa. Castillo San Felipe del Morro. Casa Blanca. Puerto Rico Museum of Art. The list goes on and on, too long for a one summer vacation. Especially if I have a Twink in tow.

Hopefully, I can go out by myself tomorrow. The sun starts to set on the ocean horizon, and I go downstairs to find Abuela reading on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"Abuela?"

"_Si, mi amor?"_

"_Debo hacer la cena?"_

"_Sí, eso sería asombroso."_ I nod and go into the kitchen, finding all the _ingredientes_ for my special _quesadillas._ I see Mami and her friend, Alicia walk in the door, and I run out ot ask her about dinner.

"_Mami. Cuando debo empezar la cena?"_ she thinks for a minute, and then responds.

"_En diez minutos, Santana. Gracias."_

"_De nada,_" I say, going back into the kitchen. The room connects to the back porch, and the large glass windows let in the evening sun. I continue to one of my favorite spots. At the end of the hall, where practically no one goes, there's a bay window, that is on the side of the house, so it almost always gets some sun. I sit down and put my headphones on, picking an album by Shakira.

"Hey." I hear a voice and take the music off one ear.

"What now, Twink?"

"I wanted to know when dinner was. I asked your grandmother, but she said to ask you, and told me you'd probably be here." Great. Now my favorite hiding spot was ruined.

"Well, I can start whenever, but probably in about 5 minutes," I tell him. He nods, and looks out the window.

"This your hideout?" I nod stiffly, letting him know that he ruined it. "Look. maybe we should bury the hatchet." I am very surprised, that was the last thing I thought he would say.

"What?"  
"Can we at least be civil to each other for this vacation?" he said. "I know you hate me, but can we at least tolerate each other? For the sake of our moms?" That last part got me. I nod reluctantly.

"What about you?" I ask. "Don't you hate me as well?" I challenge. He smirks.

"I've found it's kinda hard to hate yourself," he said, then disappeared down the hall. I sit again, to contemplate what he just told me. He thinks I'm like him. He knows nothing about me.

_**Sebastian**_

It felt kinda nice, leaving Santana thinking about me. I honestly don't mind her, she's sassy, sarcastic, strong and confident, like me, but she also has that side to her I saw today. She was nice, cheerful. It also doesn't hurt that she's gorgeous.

As soon as I realized what I was thinking, I pinched myself. Nuh-uh. I can't afford to be thinking thoughts like that. Even though it's true...nope. I can't do that to myself, falling for the one girl I can't have. I walk into the living room, where Mom and Mrs. Lopez are still talking.

"_Santana! Tu canción!_" her grandmother yells, and Santana appears a minute later, smiling as she turns up the volume on the radio. I recognize Madonna's _La Isla Bonita_, and take note that Santana likes the song.

She sings along to herself as she starts dinner, and I smile. I see her chopping things, and moving around the kitchen to the music.

"_Señor, eliges un canción,_" Santana's grandmother tells me. Santana hears her, and offers a small smirk and translates.

"She's telling you to pick a song," she says. I nod, and look through their selection. I nod appreciatively. They have good taste, and good variety. I assume Santana's responsible. I settle on _What Makes You Beautiful_, by One Direction, and I see Santana listen to the song thoughtfully.

Eventually, she calls us to the neighboring dining room, and once her grandmother sits at the head, and our mothers next to each other, the only seat left is next to the musical Latina. I sit down, as she brings out a plate stacked with crisp tortillas filled with goodies. She loads one onto each other our plates, and returns the server to the kitchen.

"_Gracias, Mija,_" her mother says.

"_Sí, gracias Santana_," her grandmother agrees. My mom and I nod in agreement. I'm pretty sure that _gracias_ means thank you. We all start eating once Santana sits down, and I'm frankly surprised. This tastes even better than that _mofongo_ I ate earlier.

Everyone finished fairly quickly, and soon, Spanish and English conversations fill my ears. Our moms are talking in english about whatever they still need to catch up on, and Santana and the older Mrs. Lopez are quietly conversing on Spanish.

"So, Sebby, what did you do today?" Mom asked me.

"Well, we all went down to the beach for a little bit, then Santana and I went out," I say simply. Mom nods at me to continue, but I had just taken a bite of food, so Santana responds.

"We went to the mall, and then I showed him Valentina's," she clarified. "He had _mofongo_ for the first time, and I'm pretty sure he liked it," she added, smirking.

Her mom nodded, and the conversation continued, with everyone this time, Santana translating her grandmother's Spanish.

"She can speak English, she's just easier to understand when she speaks Spanish," Santana explains.

The nice side of her is out again, and I like it. She talks easily with Mom, and is very helpful when it comes to translating. She is patient with her grandmother since she is old, and with me and Mom and our little of knowledge of the language.

Eventually, dinner is over, and Santana gets up to clear the table. I volunteer to help her, since she cooked as well, and she shows me where to put the dirty plates.

"Thanks for helping," she says finally.

"No problem. Dinner was really good." She flushes a little red at the compliment, but it goes away as quickly as it came.

"Thanks. It's nothing." She produces a container of churros from a cabinet, and we go over and she places it on the table. Everyone gladly helps themselves to the fried, cinnamon-coated, treats, and I think that Santana is apparently a miracle worker in the kitchen.

She clears the table, and everyone leaves, and I find Santana in the kitchen washing dishes.

"Hey."

"Hi," she says, not looking up from the sink.

"You want help?"

"No. I'm used to it," she says.

"What do you mean?"

"Since it's just my mom and I, and she works a lot, so I end up doing a lot of stuff around the house," Santana says nonchalantly.

I take note of this information, and dip my hands in the soapy water and take the sponge and dishes from her.

She looks surprised for a second when our hands touch, then lets me take over. She dries her hands, and starts the dishwasher while I finish the last pan. She nods at me in thanks, and starts upstairs. I follow her, but I go into my bathroom.

When I come out, I hear music. And feminine singing. I peek into Santana's room, and she has Rihanna's _S&M_ blaring, dancing around the room, unpacking. I smile, and watch as the song turns to _La Isla Bonita_. She must like this song a lot. I guess it's probably because she loves it here, and can't get back a lot, since she's not exactly in the rich end of the spectrum.

Eventually, she stops dancing, and I hurry over to my room before I get caught spying.

_**Santana **_

Once I finish unpacking, I quickly change into PJ's and lie on my bed, checking Facebook to see what I've missed back in Lima. Also, with my friends that traveled for the summer.

Apparently, Blaine is having a blast in NYC with Kurt, he posted pics of them with Lady Liberty, and on top of the Empire State Building. Quinn and Puck are spending the summer in LA, and Rachel is making Finn do duets with her. Poor Finn. I actually feel a little sorry for Frankenteen. Who would have thought that would happen? But I guess siccing Hobbit on him with her endless river of sings is cruel and unusual punishment.

I scroll as fast as I can past Brittany's page, but I see endless pictures of Bartie dates. My eyes tear up, and put my phone on my bedside table. I roll over to face the wall, and eventually, I fall asleep.

In the mornings by when I wake up, I check the clock. 6:47. Great. Ever since I broke up with Brittany, I haven't been sleeping the best. I drag myself out of bed, since I can't fall back asleep. I tug on a jean skirt, a red tank top, a thin sweatshirt over it, and my favorite sneakers.

I want to go to Viejo San Juan today, so I dress for it. I went quietly downstairs, and make cinnamon toast, not exactly Puerto Rican, but delicious all the same. My Mami is a late riser, so I figure I have some time to myself. I go out front and watch the sun rise from the porch, breakfast in one hand, coffee cup in the other.

"I didn't think you'd be up this early," said a voice behind me.

"What's it to you?" I say to Meerkat. He shrugs.

"Just wondering. Is breakfast help yourself?" I nod.

"But if you're picky, I can make more cinnamon toast."

"Well, you've proven to be magic in the kitchen, so how could I say no?" He asks teasingly.

I continue to watch the sunrise for a little bit longer, fully aware of his presence behind me. Once it's fully up, I turn into the house and go into the kitchen. Sebastian follows me, and soon his mom and Abuela join us.

"Maribel never was a morning person," Alicia said.

"I'm making cinnamon toast for this one," I say, pointing to Sebastian. "Would you two like some too?"

They both nod, and once again I'm back in the kitchen cooking for everyone. I mix my sugar and cinnamon while the bread toasts, and once it's done, I coat them in butter and my sugar mix. I hand the plates out, and they all sit at the bar, enjoying their food while I do a quick clean up. Mami joins us eventually, and gladly accepts the extra piece of toast I set aside for her.

"So, _Mija, qué quieres hacer hoy?"_ Mami asks.

"_Yo quiero ir a Viejo San Juan,_" I say.

"_Buena idea, Santana. Todos deberíamos ir. Eso seria divertido_," Mami says and I nod, even though I haven't gotten that day to myself yet. Everyone disperses to get ready, and I assemble a small bag with my phone, sunglasses, wallet, and other necessities.

When I go back down, Sebastian is waiting for the rest of us.

"Women. They take forever," he mutters.

"At least we don't spend insane amounts of time on over gelling our hair," I quip, joining him.

He looks up at me, and I can tell he's not looking at my face. I smirk, even though I strangely don't mind. Our families join us, and we all pile into the Smythe's rental car. I'm in the back, stuck in between Abuela and Twink. Not exactly my favorite position.

As we drive, our moms turn on the radio, and I enjoy the music, but don't sing along, even though I want to. Most of the songs are in Spanish, or have some Spanish lyrics, so neither of the Smythe's can really sing along. As we drive, I look over Abuela at the scenery out the window. The modern cities turn to stone fortresses and towers. We park, and start looking around the old city. Abuela is talking to Mrs. Smythe, and Mami comes over to me.

"_Habla con el, Mija,"_ Mami says to me.

"_Bien Mami,_" I say. I go over to Twink, who's looking at some ruins. "Hi."

"Hey," He says without turning his head. "This place is so neat. I've never seen ruins like these," he says. I come up next to him and nod.

"They don't have places like this in Paris?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

As we keep walking, we end up having a normal conversation, which would have been good, except for the fact that we're both grade-A bitches that hate each other. That was kinda weird.

We all stop for _helado_, and Mami saves us a table while Sebastian and I order.

_**Sebastian**_

I honestly didn't think that Santana Lopez could have a normal conversation. She surprised me, and I liked it.

In the ice cream shop, I tell her what flavors to get, and she easily converses with the man behind the counter.

It's frankly really hot . . . nope. Not going there. Yet. I really shouldn't do this to myself, but Santana has this thing to her that just makes me want . . . stop it.

I refocus on balancing the ice cream as we go to the table. Coincidentally, the only open seats are right next to each other. Maribel Lopez gives me a small smile as we sit down and hand everyone their treats. We have to eat fast, otherwise the ice cream will melt and drip down our hands.

We spend the rest of the day exploring, and I manage to be next to Santana for most of the time. I think I might have gotten help from her mom? Adults are weird.

When we get back, everyone showers, and I see Santana heading to the kitchen again, so I follow her in.

"Hey Satan."

"Meerkat."

"Do you want help with dinner?" She shook her head.

"I've got it."

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. You've been working your ass off in here, and you need some help," I say.

"I'm fine," she snaps. "I'm used to it."

"Well you better get used to me helping you, because if you don't, you won't even have enough energy to insult me," I tell her. She turns away from me and starts chopping onion. "Have fun being alone." I didn't think that would work. But she stiffened, and called back.

"Wait." I turn to her, and I see something on her face I've never seen before. Prove me wrong, but I think it's fear. "I guess I could use the help." I smirk, and wait for her instructions.

"Are we doing another Satan Special, or are we going classic?" I ask.

"Classic, I guess. We're having pasta." We move around the kitchen in sync, like a dance.

She moves away from a counter, I step in. Unspoken directions pass between us and we both know exactly where to move and what to do, our bodies moving together, close but never touching. I tell myself that that's a good thing, but I can't help but feel… disappointed(?) when we move away.

I see Maribel Lopez whispering to my mom, a sly smile on her face. Santana sees them too, and narrows her eyes slightly. I cover my mouth to hide my smile, at all of them.

We sit down for dinner in our same seats as yesterday, and the adults compliment us on the food.

That night, when Santana and I go upstairs, against my will and better judgement, I say,

"Night, Santana." She looks at me for a second.

"Night, Twink." She closes her door, and I follow suit. When I lie down on my bed, I drift off into sleep.

_She's standing in my doorway, a smirk on her face. _

"_You're sure you can handle this, Satan?" I say teasingly._

"_Bring it on, Smythe." She challenges me. In the next few seconds, everything is a whirlwind of motion. Then, I find her next to me in bed, our arms and legs wrapped around each other. _

"_Fuck, Smythe. You're hot. _Tu es muy caliente." _She whispers. I smile, her Spanish is super sexy. _

_I start peppering her neck with kisses, and she moans in delight. She returns the favor, planting kisses along my jawline._

_Our hands move around each other, her hands on my back and in my hair, my hands in her hair, on her neck, on her hips. _

_We pull into a deep kiss, pulling each other closer, me moving her head closer, never letting go, our tongues not fighting, but working as one. It's hot, fiery, passionate. _

_When we finally release each other to breathe, she whispers in my ear._

"Ay, me gusta_!" I smirk back at her, she raises her eyebrows, and we dive in again._

I wake up in a cold sweat. I shake my head. That didn't just happen. That could not have just happened. I did **not** just have a sex dream about Santana Lopez.

_**Santana**_

The next morning, I wake up, (early, again, ugh!), and I go out to the back porch, looking out at the ocean.

Sebastian has been acting weird this morning, giving me strange glances when he thinks I'm not looking. He obviously doesn't know about my Puerto Rican third eye. It also led me to know that Mami and Alicia are planning something. I decide that today I'm going to la Paseo de la Princesa. They have an amazing pool, and there are some really fun clubs I want to hit.

When I tell Mami I'm going out, thankfully, she just tells me to be careful.

I hop on my bike, put my bag in the compartment, and start off.

I go to Havana's, and go up to the bar, ordering a shot of tequila before hitting the dance floor. I'm currently wearing extra short jeans, red crop-top and heeled sandals.

Britney Spears' _Me Against the Music _comes on, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy moving towards me. I keep my eyes on the blonde in front of me, but I turn away, her reminding me too much of Brittany. I see that same guy, tall, lean, not bad looking I suppose, if I was straight. Honestly, I don't know what I am anymore.

He starts dancing with me, and he's better than all the other people in this joint.

"Nice moves, Satan," a silky voice says in my ear.

"Meerkat. Were you stalking me or something?" I asked him as we danced. Pretty damn well if you ask me.

"Nah, didn't have too. Your mom told me where you went. Then she dropped me off here, so I came in for a drink," he said coolly. He spun me around, and I retaliate by spinning away, always a competition. He grabs my wrist and dips me, so I grab his neck with one hand and turn, and keep going back and forth until the song ends.

"I must admit, you've got some moves, Lopez," he said as we walked out.

"You're not too shabby yourself, Smythe," I respond. I go over to my bike, and Twink follows me. I sigh, realizing he doesn't have a ride.

"Great planning, Feivel," I say. He shrugs, and I nod for him to get on back.

He'll have to sit right behind me, holding on, but I'll suck it up. Hopefully it won't be too torturous.

He smirks and gets on, and I drive to the pool. He raises his eyebrows at me, and I give him a _shut up or I'll kill you_, look. We meet back at the poolside, him in his trunks, and me in my bikini.

"So this is your idea of fun, Lopez?" He asks.

"Maybe. I can do other things besides dancing, Andrew McCarthy," I retort. He smirks at me

"Here's some fun," he says. He steps toward me, but I know what's coming. He pushes me back by the shoulders, and I go with it, arching my body, smoothly, gracefully entering the water. When I return for air, I smirk at him.

"Nice try, Twink. But you can't beat me that easily," I swim to the other side of the pool, towards the entrance to the outdoor pool.

I hear a splash, letting me know that he's following me. Once I reach the outdoor area, I duck under the water, letting it surround me, letting it wash away my tension. I go up for air, and I realize how far I've gone. I'm at the other end of the pool.

Either I'm a really fast swimmer, or I'm good at holding my breath, either way, at the other end I see Twinks mouth open, in awe, and I smirk. I tread water while I wait for him to join me at my end.

"How did you swim that far underwater?" He asks once he reaches me. I shrug, but I flash him a smug look as we race back. I beat him by a few seconds, and he gives me a playful frown. I splash him, evolving into a full frontal water fight.

I dive under the water to swim away, but he smiles and grabs my wrist and keeps me from escaping. I see adults looking at us like _isn't that couple cute?_ and I smile and roll my eyes. I mean, we're not dating. Strangely, I don't mind their looks, it actually makes me feel good. Weird.

Once we're done with the pool, we change and get back on my bike, mostly driving around to watch everything and see the sights. I start to forget the fact that his arms are around my core. I actually don't mind them there. They're warm. Comforting.

We head back home for lunch, and Sebastian joins me in the kitchen again. Jennifer Lopez comes on the radio, and I turn it up, singing the lyrics to _Invading My Mind_, surprised when I find the lyrics to be true.

Sebastian smiles at me, and at the end, joins in, his silky voice matching and combining perfectly with my soulful voice.

Lunch is normally serve yourself, so Sebastian and I sit in the back porch and eat our sandwiches. I try to convince myself that I'm being nice because of our deal, but I can't. I know he's only pretending to be nice, but I'm enjoying it. I wish he wasn't pretending.

We go upstairs for a _siesta or _some down time, but I don't know what to do. I debate knocking on Sebastian's door, but I decide against it.

I go downstairs and see Abuela kneeling on the floor, in front of a picture of Abuelo. I come up behind her silently.

"_Es Abuelo bien?_" I ask. She makes a strange choking noise. "Abuela?" She collapses on the floor and I rush her to the couch. What's going on?! I put my hand on her neck. No pulse. What do I do?! I can't lose her too! I just can't. My eyes well up with tears. I do the only thing I can think of. "Mami! _Ayudame!_!"

_**Sebastian**_

I hear Santana yelling, and I can tell something's really wrong. I follow our moms as they run downstairs, and I see Santana bent over her grandmother, unconscious on the couch.

Santana is crying, and her mother gives her directions in rapid-fire Spanish. Santana fumbles with her phone, and calls 911.

"_Ayudame! Mi abuela derrumbado! Ella no tiene pulso!_" She hangs up and an ambulance arrives a second later.

Santana begs them to go with them, but they only let her mom go with the old woman. Maribel frantically whispers something to her distraught daughter, and Santana nods, and wraps her arms around herself to keep it together as the ambulance drives away. Santana runs into the house sobbing, and I run after her.

Even though this is the first time I've seen it, I hate seeing Santana cry.

She's leaning against the wall, crying into her hands. I go over to her and place my arms around her. She leans into my chest, and slowly, she removes her hands from her face and puts them around me.

After maybe half an hour, she stops crying, and we let go and she goes into the bathroom to clean up, even though she doesn't need it. No, I can't… you know, screw it. She needs someone right now. I know she has a girlfriend, but she's not here, and I am.

Her phone rings, and I see it's from the hospital. I knock on the door, and she opens it and takes the phone from me, mouthing a thank you before answering.

_**Santana**_

When Sebastian hands me my phone, and cross my fingers that it's good news.

"_Hola?_" I say weakly.

"_Hola Señora Lopez. Nuestro paciente es tu abuela, sí?_"

"_Sí Senor." _

"_Bueno, ella desafortunadamente tuvo un infarto._" The words ring in my ears. A heart attack.

The doctor keeps talking but I don't hear it. I drop my phone and run. Sebastian picks it up, and asks for the recap in English, but I already know. My Abuela is dead. And it's my fault. I shouldn't have scared her.

I run to my room, Mrs. Smythe calling my name. I slam the door and lock it. I sink to the floor. I am alone. I killed my Abuelo and now Abuela is gone. The tears flow from my eyes and I make no effort to stop them. I hear someone on the other side of the door knock softly, but I just curl up on the bed. I'm not leaving this room. I can't.

For the next two days, I stay locked in my room. I can't face anybody right now. I'm going through rounds of emotions each day, sadness, anger, depression, fear. But through the whole thing is guilt. Crushing guilt.

Sebastian and his mom have been trying to get me to come out, but I can't. Every so often, I change clothes, but half heartedly. Someone's been leaving me plates of food in the mornings and nights, but I always make sure that no ones there. The food is ok, but I appreciate the gesture.

On the third day, I quickly grab the plate of dry eggs at my door, but before I can close the door, Sebastian slips in. Before I can yell at him to get the hell out, he puts a finger on my lips. I scowl at him.

"Santana. You can't do this to yourself. You left the phone before they told you that she'll live. You don't have a reason to torture yourself over this."

"S-she'll live?" I ask, hoping I heard correctly.

He nodded, and I hugged him, smiling a little for the first time in three days. He smiles back at me, and leads me out and down to the living room, where Mrs. Smythe hugs me.

"Santana, sweetie, we missed you! I'm so glad Sebby could get you out of there," she says to me. Sebastian smirks behind her back.

"Yeah, we've really been missing your magic in the kitchen. I'm not as good by myself," He says.

We both realize what he said, and flush a little and turn away. Luckily, his mom is oblivious to the whole thing, and she filled me in on Abuela's recovery process, which Mami had told her about.

"Maribel is staying with her until she's better, which should be a few days to a week." I nod, and go into the kitchen, craving real food, instead of the mac and cheese I'd had for the past few days.

I dig in the pantry until I find the ingredients I need, and make a batch of one of my favorite comfort foods, my caramel-chocolate cookies. I prefer them cakey on the inside, so I take them out of the oven a couple minutes early. Sebastian comes in, and gets a look on his face.

"Well, after smelling them from the living room, I can't wait to taste your next magic trick," he says, coming over. He reaches to pick one, but I slap his hand away.

"They're not done yet. Keep your hands off!" He raises his hands in an _I'm innocent!_ gesture, but I give him a flat look. He and I both smile, and I'm so grateful that he got me out of my room.

Once the cookies are mostly cool, I press a small dent into the top of each cookie. I drizzle a little bit of caramel sauce into the crater, and sprinkle a tiny bit of salt on top.

"**Now** they're done," I say. He grabs one before I can stop him, and pops it into his mouth. He stares at me as he finishes the cookie.

"What the hell Santana?!"

"What?" I'm confused. Does he hate them?

"This is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth!" he says, and I smirk as Mrs. Smythe joins us.

We all eat a cookie ( Sebastian's second!) and I pack the rest up.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, dear," Alicia says to me. I smile at her and nod.

That night, I make corn, bean and tortilla soup, and Sebastian helps me. He was joking at how badly he sucked at cooking, even though he did really well helping with the soup. Alicia had turned on the radio, and I was grateful, since I haven't heard music in too long. Or three days, whichever you prefer.

After dinner, I go back to my room, but Sebastian makes sure that I don't lock it. I lie on my bed, but I can't sleep. I hadn't been sleeping well, but since Abuela went to the hospital, I haven't been sleeping, almost at all.

I stare at the ceiling, until I decide I want air. I slip on my flip flops and sneak out the door.

_**Sebastian**_

I hear footsteps in the hall as I'm trying to fall asleep. I'm assuming it's Santana. I'm glad she is feeling better, but I can't deny that I liked it when she was hugging me, even though I tried to.

I tug on my sneakers and follow the dark-haired Latina downstairs, out the back door, and onto the beach. She sat down on a log, and I slowly came up next to her.

"Hey."

"Hi Sebastian," she says without looking.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You just called me by my actual name." She gives me a small smile and turns back to the ocean. I sit next to her, and look up at the stars, glowing against the black velvet sky.

"My dad left when I was five," she said suddenly. "Mami had just introduced me to music. He was always distant because I wasn't a boy. I guess a "girly" thing like singing was the last straw. The next day when Mami and I came home, he was gone," she said. I saw a single tear fall, and I move closer and wipe it away.

"You have nothing to be sad about, Santana. It's his fault he missed out on all the amazingness that is Santana . . ."

"Santana Marie Snixx Lopez," she told me.

"Snixx?" I ask. She smiles.

"It's my alter ego that takes over when I get mad. You don't want to get on her bad side."

"Definitely not," I agree. "You're not the only one. My dad left two years ago once I told him I was gay." I admit, and Santana looks away. "Back then, I thought you were either one or the other, and I didn't realize you could be bi-sexual. I am bi, I guess." She nods.

"I get the feeling. For me, I thought since I liked Brittany, I was gay, even though I'd been with boys in the past. I am bi, though."

"So are you and Brittany . . ." I ask, hoping she doesn't say what I think she will.

"We were," she admits. "But a few weeks ago, I found out she had cheated on me with Artie. For a month." She looked down, and rubbed her shoulders as a cold breeze comes off of the ocean.

"Here," I say. I hand her my hoodie, since I have a long sleeve shirt and she has a tank top. She nods appreciatively, and puts it on, even though it's too big for her. "I'm sorry about Brittany by the way."

"I'm not," she says. "If she really loved me, she wouldn't have cheated. She would have at least told me as soon as she wanted to break it off."

I don't know why, but now I'm mad at Brittany. How dare she hurt Santana like that.

Even though she says she's ok, I can tell Santana's upset. I actually know why I'm mad. I'm not denying it. Even though I have no clue how it happened.

I'm in love with Santana Lopez.

_**Santana**_

When Sebastian gave me his hoodie, I was immediately warm. I'm glad I told him about my dad. I'm also glad he opened up to me about his dad. We have that one in common, I guess. He could tell I was upset still, so he slid closer, and put his arm around my shoulders.

It sent happy tingles through me, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. We looked at the waves for another few minutes, talking quietly, before we went back inside. He never asked for his sweatshirt back, so I ended up falling asleep in it. Strangely, I slept better than I have in a while. I know why, but I don't want to admit it. I think I have a crush. No, I know I have a crush.

On Sebastian Smythe.

_How the hell did that happen?_

The next day, Sebastian, Alicia and I go to the Puerto Rico Museum of Art. Apparently, Alicia Smythe is an international art junkie. Or collector. Either or. She wanders off, leaving Sebastian and I to explore.

When we watch a dancing documentary, it reminds me too much of Brittany. Sebastian somehow has a sixth sense about my emotions, so he holds my hand, and I don't even mind. He can pretend as much as he wants too. Deep down, I know it's not real, but I can pretend, right?

Over the course of the trip, we sorta have fallen into a routine, go out for the day, come back in the afternoon, Sebastian and I make dinner then do dishes, then we all go to sleep.

Tonight is no different, and Sebastian and I now talk normally, and say goodnight to each other. I change into my night clothes, and lie down. When I fall asleep, though, it's less than peaceful.

_Abuela, Mami and I are driving downtown. I get out to pick up some food. When I get back out, a monster truck slams into the car containing my family, and it flips. I scream and run over, and they are rushed st the hospital. I wait in the ER waiting room for the doctors to tell me if they're going to be ok. They approach me sullenly, silently, and tell me that they're both gone. I scream and swear until I can't breathe, and run out, tears flowing in an uncontrolled stream down my face. _

_At the funeral, it's just me and some mortician. I'm alone. He tells me I'll have to decide what to do now._

_Back at McKinley, I go to glee club, hoping they'll be nice, but they all scream at me to leave. Using the same words my father used when he left. Even Mr. Schue. I have no one. I run out to the hall, but it's deserted. I'm completely alone. I run to Dalton, maybe Sebastian will be there, but there's no one in sight. I start hyperventilating. No, no, no. I'm actually alone. I can't._

_**Sebastian**_

I was sleeping peacefully until my sixth sense woke me up. Sight, taste, hearing, touch, smell, and Santana. My Santana Sense. Something's wrong.

I listen, and I hear crying. I get up quickly and rush to her room, which is thankfully, still unlocked.

Inside, I see Santana sitting up, crying into her hands. I rush over to her, and sit next to her, putting my arms around her. She doesn't stop crying though. I try to calm her down, and eventually it works, though not as fast as I'd like.

"What's wrong, Santana?" I whisper. From her place in my arms against my chest, she responds,

"_Una p-pesadilla_," she stammers.

"In English?" I ask quietly. She nods shakily.

"N-nightmare," she stutters.

"It was more than that," I say, knowing she wouldn't have been crying hysterically if it were just a nightmare.

"M-my Mami and Abuela were dead," she starts, still crying a bit. I rub her back soothingly as she continues. "Nobody came to the funeral. At McKinley, t-the glee club abandoned me, they used the same words my father did when he . . ." she starts breathing heavily again, and I ask her quietly to continue.

"It's okay, Santana. I've got you."

"Then, I left, and there was no one there. I even went to Dalton to find you, but no one was there. I was alone." Her face went to her hands again, and I realized she wasn't just sad. She was scared. Afraid. I remember seeing the same fear when I threatened to leave her alone in the kitchen.

"You're not alone, Santana," I whisper to her. She calms her breathing enough to tell me something else.

"Ever since my Abuelo died, and m-my dad left, my worst fear has always been being alone. I just, it s-scares me so much.." she trails off, and I hold her closer. I don't want to leave her alone again.

"What do you want me to do, Santana?"

"Don't leave," she says pleadingly.

"I won't. But for now?" she hesitates a bit before answering.

"Stay. Please? For tonight?" I nod, and slide next to her under the blanket. She lies down, and I keep my arms around her, holding her gently, but firmly, until we both fall asleep again.

When I wake up, Santana's still asleep. I don't move, enjoying my position, arms around the beautiful Latina. She stirs, and I whisper to her.

"Morning Santana."

"Morning, Sebastian," she mumbles sleepily. I smile, this being the second time she used my real name. She shifts a bit so she can see me, and I can feel that she's relaxed.

"Are you feeling okay?" I ask her. She nods. She looks up at the clock.

"Wow, this is the longest I've slept in a while." I realize she's right, I've never seen Santana sleep this late. She's always been the first one up.

"Do you know why?"

"Since I broke up with Brittany, I haven't been sleeping well, even worse after Abuela went to the hospital," she admits.

"Do you know why it was better tonight, though?" I ask, smiling, already knowing the answer. She looks away, I smirk, and she changes the subject.

"Do you remember what I was talking about last night?" she asks. I nod.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Could you, um, keep that a secret? It's not really something I like other people knowing." I nod, but inside I'm kinda happy, knowing something about Santana that barely anyone else knows.

_**Santana**_

When I wake up with Sebastian's arms around me, I feel safe. Warm. Comforted. I don't want to leave, and I hope he doesn't want to either. To my luck, he stays.

We talk for a little bit, just enjoying each others company, until we both agree that we have to get up.

I'm only wearing an oversized _Like a Prayer_ album t shirt, and I notice Sebastian staring as he gets up to leave. I smile and throw a pillow at him. He catches it and throws it back at my head. I deflect it, and he smiles and walks out.

I change into a sport dress and sneakers and Sebastian and I go downstairs, where his mom is already up, sipping coffee at the bar. She says she has a little bit of work to do here, so Sebastian and I go out in Abuela's car.

As we walk around downtown San Juan, our hands brush together, and we both smirk at each other.

"Well, if it isn't my _favorite_ cousin, Santana Lopez. It's been a while," a snotty, sarcastic voice said from behind us. I roll my eyes and turn around.

"Lydia Vasquez. Not long enough." The newcomer laughs, clearly fake. She has auburn hair, blue eyes, and perfectly tanned skin. I hate her. She's always on my back, and blames me for . . . Abuelo's death. "_Que haces aqui? Pensé que estabas en LA." _

"_Me enteré de la Abuela. Muy bien Santana." _she says, even more sarcastic than before.

"Lydia_. No es mi culpa. Vete, por favor?_" I ask, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

"_No quiero,_" her eyes find Sebastian behind me. "_Quién es esto?"_ she asks smoothly, gliding closer. Now I'm just mad. I know we're not together, so technically I don't have that right. But still, I'm jealous.

"_Mi amigo_, Sebastian," I say simply.

"_Hola, Senor_," she purrs, coming up next to him. I roll my eyes. I might as well save Sebastian from future embarrassment.

"_El no entiende Español."_ I tell her.

"Pity. There are somethings I wouldn't mind saying," Lydia says flirtatiously.

"Like what, Lydia?" I challenge. She glares at me, then turns back to Sebastian.

"Do you know other languages?" she asks.  
"French." He shrugs.

"Oh la la. French is super sexy," she tells him. Meanwhile, I do my best to control Snixx and keep steam from blowing out of my ears.

She slides closer, and is about to touch him when he steps away.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I have my eye on another girl," he says. What?! Who? I'm just as confused as Lydia, except she is a little more annoyed.

"Well, if it doesn't work out, call your friend," she said nodding towards Santana. "She'll know where to find me." Lydia turns back to me, and switches back to Spanish. Not as smoothly as I do, but not bad neither. "_Sé que dijiste que no era tu culpa. Dos veces. Pero lo fue. No te mientas._" She turns on her heel, and stalks off, giving me a snotty smirk as she climbs into her Porsche and drives away.

I lean my forehead on one hand, and stare at the ground. Why do I have to be related to that rich brat? She hates me because I'm Abuela's favorite, and she tries to get back at me every time she sees me.

Sebastian puts his hand on my shoulder. He gives me a smile, and I smile back, but there are too many things going on in my brain. Abuelo and Abuela. My fault. Sebastian. Another girl. Ughh! Why does my life have to be so confusing?

We keep walking, and Sebastian breaks the silence.

"So, I heard something from your mom about your birthday. When actually is it?"

"July 2nd. It's actually tomorrow. Why?" Sebastian shrugged. I know something is up, thanks to my third eye, but I leave it at that.

"Oh, my mom asked me to pick up an earring she had ordered as a replacement for one she lost." he said. "The shop is around here. Can I meet you at the cafe?" I nod, and he runs off. I sigh and when I get to the cafe, I sit out on the deck. I order a coffee to try and calm myself down with all the thoughts pounding in my head. After 20 minutes, Sebastian joins me, and shows me a pearl-drop earring with gold findings. I nod in appreciation at his mom's taste in jewelry, and he tucks it in his pocket.

He orders a coffee too, and we both order sandwiches and we watch the ocean. He's talking to me, but all I can think about is what Lydia told me. Its my fault. Abuela and Abuelo. Both of them. I'm no good for them. I hurt people, I kill. Plus, I know my crush is in love with someone else, so that just makes me feel worse, even though it's so common. I just want it all to end.

As I stare at the ocean, a plan forms in my head. I hate it, but it might save the people I love.

"Santana!" Sebastian waves his hand in front of my face, and I refocus on what he's talking about.

"Sorry, what?" I ask. He smirks at me, and recaps what he was talking about.

As I drift off again, he sighs.

"Santana, are you feeling ok? You keep spacing out." I shake my head.

"No, I'm fine. Just worrying about Abuela." My answer wasn't technically a lie, it was true, just not in the way he was thinking.

"She'll be fine," he tells me, and I nod thankfully.

"I know," I say. He smiles at me, and inside i'm crying. But he won't have to pretend anymore. He can go get his mystery girl.

We get up and head back home, me mapping everything out in my head.

I go into my room, lock the door, and get writing. First, for the sake of Mami, Abuela and Sebastian, I write down all of my recipes in a book, in English and Spanish. Then, I write a long note, mostly english, because someone special needs to understand it. A few parts are in spanish, but I assume he'll get the gist. I glance out the window.

The sun is slowly disappearing behind the horizon. I jog downstairs and find Sebastian waiting for me in the kitchen.

"What's on the menu for today, Chef Satan?" I smile and hand him the recipe. He grins at me, and we start our routine, today, Sebastian picks the music. He picks my Whitney Houston mix, and we dance around, singing along. Sebastian calls his mom to the table, and I serve up pieces of _Pastelon_, the Puerto Rican version of lasagna, using cassava instead of noodles. It's also good for leftovers. They might want them.

We clear the table, with Alicia helping, and we split off into our rooms. Sebastian and I hug goodnight, but I know this is going to be the last time I see him. Once it's dark, and I'm sure they're asleep, I slip my swimsuit on, and a put my cover up on over it. Not that it matters. I fold my note, lay out my cookbook, and slip the note underneath Sebastian's door.

I run outside, I want my last breaths to be here, in Puerto Rican waters. I ditch my dress, and wade into the cold water. Even at night, it's not the coldest water I've been in. I swim out farther, and once I feel like i'm far enough, I close my eyes, hold my breath, and let myself sink, waiting for the world to turn black.

_**Sebastian**_

I agree with Santana. Last night was definitely the best I've had in awhile. I'm staring at the ceiling when I get a feeling in my gut. A pain. I think its my Santana sense. I'd been listening at her door, though. She's asleep. I look at the door, and I see a piece of paper sticking out from under it. I get up, turn on my lamp and start to read:

_Dear Family and Friends,_

_I don't know what to say in these kinds of situations. I'm no good with emotions. But here goes. _

_Mami, I want you to know, that the look on your face after _West Side Story _was the best present you've ever given me. All I wanted was for you to be proud of me, as much as I'm proud of you. I know you can do this._

_Abuela, I'm so sorry. I know it was my fault you had a heart attack. I scared you, I have no excuse. I've been a disaster for you and Abuelo, it was my fault he died in that crash. I want you to be safe and happy, and the only way that can happen is if i'm not around. I can't live with the guilt. I plan on going to where I was born, and there I'll stay. I can watch over you, only from afar. _

_Finally, Sebastian. I want you to know how much I enjoyed this summer, even if it was part of our deal. You didn't have to be nice to me and yet you did. You didn't have to pretend to like or tolerate me, but you did, and I really enjoyed it. You helped me through tough times, I guess I'm not as strong as you thought. You win, I guess. I hope you and your crush get together. But, just know, _te amo_. Last night was the best one I've ever had, _por ti.

_Be strong._

_-Santana_

I stare at the note for a second, trying to make sense of it. I don't understand Spanish, but she didn't know . . . that it was real. It was all real.

I go over to her room, but she's not there. Where is she? What is she doing? I re-read the note. Then it hits me. All of it. No. no, no, no!

I run as fast as I can out the door, down to the beach, praying and hoping with everything that I'm not too late. When I get there, I see her dress lying on the sand. No. I scan the wavy waters frantically, and finally I see a dark shape bobbing on the waves. I run into the water, swimming out as fast as I can. The waters are rough, slapping my face, pushing me back, but also pushing her to me. I fight against them, until I can reach her, floating, unconscious. I latch my arm onto her, and pull her back to shore. I start crying as I drag her limp form onto the beach, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. No. No.

The tears flow faster as I struggle to think, trying to think of what to do. I can't lose her. Not now. Not ever. As my breathing grows heavier, a song plays back to me in my mind. _Want You Back,_ Jackson 5. I had sang this song to Blaine Anderson forever ago, she was there, and I had noticed her. I wish I had sang it to her. As I get more and more nervous, I sing it softly under my breath, hoping, praying she can hear me.

When she doesn't move, I do the only thing I can think of. I put my mouth on hers as I try to breathe life back into her. I think of all the things I love about her, I can't lose her. It can't happen. After what seems like forever, something in me dies. Along with the girl I love.

She didn't know that doing this permanently prevents me from getting with the girl I mentioned. The one she wished me luck with.

I turn away, and shed tears into my hand, when I hear something. I whirl back to Santana, and I see her moving. She's alive! The thought of hope seems ridiculous, but I run closer, and sure enough, my prayers have been answered. I'm still crying, but there's light ahead. She's struggling to breathe, but all of a sudden, she jerks up, and coughs up at least two gallons of saltwater.

She pants heavily, trying to remember what air tastes like. Her eyes are closed, but she opens them, and looks over at me.

I stare into her coffee-brown eyes, losing myself in them, and she collapses, unconscious, she's still weak. I catch her, and put her head against my chest. I stand up, I need to get her to the house.

My mom is an intense sleeper, a stampede of elephants couldn't wake her, so I can worry about that later.

As I bring her up the path to the house, she wakes up and attempts to help me get her up to the house, but it doesn't do anything, if not make it harder . . . so I pick her up, one hand under her knees, other on her back, keeping her head on my chest, and walk slowly back to the house, as to not fall. Once I get there, I'm thankful I left the door open, and gently set Santana down on the couch. She's shivering, so I put a blanket on her. Her eyes are closed again, and I sit next to her, and check the clock. 11:54 pm. Her eyes flutter open, and she tries to say something, but I can't understand her. I grab some water from the kitchen, and help her drink it. She nods slowly, regaining control of her body.

"S-Sebastian," she says. It repairs my broken heart, hearing her say my name again. "S-sit up," she stammers. I help her sit up straight, and I sit next to her, as close as I can, my arm around her. I never want to let her go. Her breathing steadies, and she calms down. "Why?"

"Why what?" I say to her.

"Why did you save me? You could have drowned too."

"I read your note."

"I know. You wouldn't have found me if you hadn't." I smile a bit at the usual Santana.

"You felt guilty about your grandparents." She sighed.

"My Abuelo. He and I went out shopping. I asked him to stop so I could grab something. When I turned back, the car was flipped over, crashed into by a truck, Abuelo's head was split open," she said, starting to cry. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Lydia blamed me for his death. She blamed me for Abuela's heart attack. I believed her." I shook my head.

"It wasn't your fault," I say. She nods shakily.

"I let it get to me, and it sent me over the edge. I know now that it's not my fault," she said. Quietly, she added, "I also thought I was getting in your way. With your crush and all."

"Santana, you weren't getting in the way at all," I assure her.

"Sebastian. I meant what I wrote. You didn't have to pretend. It was a lot of work for just me, and I didn't think you liked me. I appreciated it, though."

"Santana." She looked up at me.

"Yeah?"

" I wasn't pretending a thing." She looked at me, and I couldn't help it. I kissed her quickly on the lips, and when I looked back at her, she looked upset. "Are you mad?" I ask, nervously.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Why?" I ask, dreading the answer. She smiles at me.

"Because you didn't let me kiss you back."

Unspoken, we lean to each other, and our lips meet. Perfectly, gently at first, then passionately. I use my arm around her shoulder to pull her closer, and she moves her hand around my neck, doing the same. I let her in, and our tongues move in sync. We both refuse to be the first to pull away.

We continue to kiss passionately, wrapping our arms around each other. I never want this to end. Santana sighs happily as we continue.

"_Ay me gusta este,_" she mumbles. "_Quiero mas,"_ I smile through the kiss, and as she deepens it, I oblige happily.

Eventually, reluctantly, after maybe 10 more minutes, we pull away, both of us smiling. Santana rests her head on my shoulder, and under the blanket, I clasp her hand in mine.

"_Te amo_," she whispers.

"I love you too, San," I whisper back, recognizing the one Spanish phrase I know. I put my other arm around her, and she relaxes into my chest. I glance back up at the clock. I kiss her again, before whispering, "Happy Birthday."

She smiles at me.

"Best present ever," she says smirking. We go upstairs, and in a matter of seconds, we're passed out on Santana's bed, arms around each other.

_**Santana**_

I guess my decision last night was rash. Stupid. I just hated that guilty, solitary feeling, I needed it to end. Luckily, even though I'm still here, it did.

_Sebastian_. That was probably the best gift I've ever gotten. I get warm inside thinking about him, and I feel Sebastian's arms around me. I smile. I think this might be the best birthday ever. Sebastian's here, with me, we kissed, we love each other, and my family's here. Well, sorta. The thought dims my mental light, and Sebastian, with his creepy sixth sense, notices. He pulls me closer, and whispers to me.

"It'll be ok." I nod, and he leans and kisses my neck. I give a small sigh of pleasure, and he smirks, making me roll my eyes.

After a few more minutes of cuddling, we get up, and I put on my favorite skirt, a Jennifer Lopez t shirt, and black high-tops. I put my hair back in a high ponytail, and put my favorite trucker hat on.

I meet Sebastian in the hallway, and when we go downstairs, it's empty. I know something's up, so I ask Alicia about it when she comes down a minute later.

"What do you mean, dear?" she asks, feigning innocence.

"Oh, nothing," I say. She shrugs and sits on the couch, and Sebastian drags me aside.

"What?" I ask in the same tone his mom used. He raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Tell me," he says. "I know you're thinking something."

"Sure. About how much your face reminds me of a horse," I say. I smirk at him.

"And you love it," he says. I pretend to think about it, and he sweeps me up in a hug. "No, really."

"I know you guys are planning something. I know that it has something to do with Abuela. I know you took my cookbook. It's under that cloth in the kitchen. And, I know that I want to kiss you right now," I say smirking.

"Wow," he says, honestly shocked. "That might be all completely true."

"The last one especially," I say, then give him a quick kiss. He smiles at me.

"How did you know all that?" he asks.

"I'm psychic," I say simply.

"No, seriously."

"I am serious. I have a psychic Puerto Rican third eye," I say. He leans back, impressed.

"Then can you tell me what I'm thinking?" he challenges.

"Yep. You're super happy about last night, in more ways than one. You really want another one of my cookies that are, and I quote 'the best thing you've ever put in your mouth', but you don't know where I hid them. And you think I look really hot," I say with a smirk.

"Magic," he says, eyes wide. "Your family must have a hard time surprising you."

I nod proudly, and he loops an arm around my waist.

Then, I hear a knocking on the door. I give Sebastian a look as I answer it, even though I know who it is. Sebastian smiles as I give him a clearly sarcastic _I wonder who it is?_ look. I open the door to find Mami and Abuela, and I pull them both into a loving family group hug.

"_Estaba tan preocupada! Te amo!"_ I whisper to them.

"_Te amo tambien, Mija,"_ Mami tells me.

"_Yo también, mi amor."_ Abuela says. It's so nice to hear her voice again. I let them inside, and Mami hugs Alicia.

"Thanks for taking care of Santana," Mami says to her.

"Thank you, but Sebastian did most of it. She was locked in her room until he got her out," she informs them. I look at my feet at the mention of my low point, and Sebastian blushes at the compliment.

"Thank you, Sebastian. For looking after my daughter. You know I love her," Mami says to him. "She denies that she needs someone to take care of her, but she likes it," she whispers to him, but I hear it anyway, and look anywhere but Sebastian, who's looking at me with a smirk.

We both go to the kitchen, but he stops me from entering.

"It's your birthday, you're not cooking," he says with a smile.

"So you're telling me I can't do something I love on my birthday?" I ask sarcastically. He rolls his eyes and lets me in.

"I guess that'd be rude," he says. "Plus, cooking with you is fun for me too, so I guess I shouldn't complain much."

"Good boy," I say, removing the towel from the cookbook I wrote last night, and flip to the page with my cinnamon pancakes. Sebastian looks over my shoulder, and agrees with my decision. He turns on one of my favorite Jennifer Lopez albums, _Love?_ and we do our dance around the kitchen, but this time, we aren't afraid to bump into each other, accidentally, or on purpose.

We all sit in the living room, snacking on pancakes while Abuela and Mami give me the gifts they got me. I told them they didn't have to, but they insisted.

I open a mixtape from Abuela, which has a long list of my favorite songs, and I am super happy about it. I also receive a gold charm bracelet from Mami. The gorgeous bracelet already has a few charms, a Puerto Rican flag, a tiny pair of Pom poms, a treble clef, and, my favorite, a miniature locket with a picture inside of Mami, Abuela, and I.

I give Mami a huge hug, and immediately clasp it around my wrist. When we all get up, Sebastian pulls me aside.

"I, um, have something for you to add to your bracelet," he says. He hands me a small cloth bag, and inside if find another charm. Also gold, it's in a heart shape, with two intertwined 'S's on the front. I smile at him, and he gestures back to the charm.

I explore it a little more, and find that it's another locket, this one more discreet than the other. I open it, and see it has four photo spots. I look at them all and find two pictures. Someone else must have taken one of them, because it's of me, standing on my balcony, hair blowing every which way.

"Were you spying on me?" I ask Sebastian accusingly. He nods, slightly embarrassed, but I stand closer and kiss his cheek. "Thank you. But what about the other spots?"

"Look again," he says. I do, and the picture directly touching mine is an incredible picture of him.

I hug him, but ask again,

"What about the other two spaces?"

"I was thinking we could get a picture of the two of us for one," he says, putting his arm around my waist as I gently close the locker and attach it to my bracelet.

"And the other?" I ask slyly.

"We'll have to wait and see." he says mischievously. I smile. "You know I love you, right?" I nod.

"I love you too, Seb."We place our lips together for a few seconds, and I can feel Sebastian fiddling with the charm he gave me. When we pull away, we grin at each other, and go back into the living room. Mami notices my new charm right away, and gives me a teasing smile. I roll my eyes, and sit down on the couch next to Sebastian, ignoring teasing looks from Mami and Abuela.

We catch the two of them up on everything, but Sebastian and I keep last night's events to ourselves. That seems private. Abuela and Mami go and get settled in with Alicia, and Sebastian and I go out onto the back deck. We stare at the ocean, the one I had thought would be the last thing I saw, and Sebastian clasps my hand. I smile at him gratefully, and we lean against the railing.

A tap on my shoulder startles me, and I whip around, followed by Sebastian, to find Mami grinning at us.

"_Mija, nos vamos a la playa. _Do you two want to come?" I nod, and when she retreats into the house, I smirk at Sebastian's confused look.

"We're going to the beach."

"You're sure you can handle that?" I shrug.

"If I can't you're right there. So I'll be fine." He grins and follows me into the house, and in what seems like seconds, we're piled in the Smythe's car again, in the same positions as before, only this time I don't mind being pressed up against Sebastian.

The beach is bustling when we get there, but we manage to claim a spot for our stuff. It's hot enough that we all go in the water immediately, and whenever I feel a cold spot, or a rush of fear, Sebastian's right there, holding my hand or holding me comfortingly.

A few days later, its time for us all to leave back to Lima. I'm packed almost instantly, and when I peek my head into Sebastian's room, he still has all his stuff about. I smirk and help him pack, and after dinner, we have to leave. I hug Abuela tightly goodbye, and so does Mami. We all get in the rental car to go back to the airport, and we stay together for our journey through the airport, Mami and Alicia talking in hushed tones about another vacation next summer, and Sebastian and I talking about everything else, our hands never leaving the other person's grasp.

At the gate, Mami suggests that she and Sebastian switch seats, and I swear I see a mischievous glint in her eye. Adults. We both agree instantly, and Mami informs Alicia of our new seating arrangement.

"Y'know, Lima is going to seem super boring after Puerto Rico," Sebastian says.

"Yeah, that's always my least favorite part of coming here. Going back." He smiles.

"Maybe we can do this again next summer," he suggests. "We could go to France this time." I smirk at him.

"Sounds good to me."

"And this time, I know the language and you don't," he said, giving me a fake haughty look.

"Except next summer, I'll have had time to learn French, and, you could give me lessons," I say, smiling innocently.

"Oooh, now that's a good idea," he says. We board the plane, and Sebastian lets me have the window seat. Once we take off, Sebastian holds my hand, and I lean my head on his shoulder. "This really was the best vacation ever."

"Why?" I ask teasingly.

"Where should I start? The location, the beaches, the amazing food," He nudges me, and I smile. "The experiences, and most of all…."

"Yes?"

"You." The lights go out in the cabin, and we lean to each other, our lips meeting in perfect time. My free hand snakes around his neck and through his hair, pulling him closer, and his wraps around my shoulder, doing the same. Neither of us wants to pull away first, but through the kiss, I tell him,

"I couldn't agree more."

THE END

**A/N: I hope this wasn't complete crap. Comment and review if you liked it! Thanks!**


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